Love Is A Mystery
by edwardismychauffeur
Summary: A beautiful voice on the radio, belonging to a mystery man, captivated my dreams. A simple touch from a man I'd met recently,penetrated my soul. I'd never felt this way before. I was falling for 2 men -one I'd met and one I hadn't. What was a girl to do?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first fanfiction and I ****could never have done it if it wasn't for my wonderful beta MissAlex! If you haven't read her story "Rebel Without A Cause", DO IT NOW! She's not only an amazing person, but also one hell of a writer!!! :D Thank you so much Alex for your help!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight and I doubt I ever will.**

**Chapter One: The Missing Piece**

As I sat down on the old couch in the living room, I let out a loud groan. I was exhausted, and ready to face another dreadful, sleepless night with my roommate's stereo as my only company. Alice was already in asleep and the stillness of the room was uncomfortable.

Actually, Alice was not just my roommate, but my childhood friend. We first met when we were both six years old. I had just moved to the rainy small town of Forks, the dullest town in Washington, from Rome, the most beautiful city in the world. My mother was an American and so was my father, however, a work opportunity brought them to Italy. I was born there and after my father's job ended, the three of us moved back to the United States.

I had been back to Rome several times since and I absolutely adored it. Although I had citizenship in both America and Italy, life circumstances prevented me from moving back. But really, there wasn't anything driving me away from Washington except the weather. I had wonderful friends and aside from my lack of boyfriend, I felt complete.

Now, after all these years, at the age of twenty-six, I was still close with Alice, the crazy Donna Karan wannabe. We moved into this apartment in Seattle together a few years ago and I loved her like a sister even though we always made fun of each other. In actuality, I thought she was a true fashion genius. She was always working on new creations to add to her huge clothing collection, but she didn't need the ego boost, so I found it better to just joke with her about it. Regardless of how far it went, Alice knew that I supported her and had the utmost confidence in her abilities.

Yes, we made quite the pair, Alice and I. She was the messiest, most disorganized human being to ever walk this planet, while I was probably the only journalist in history with an obsession for  
neatness. Living with a slob like Alice did not cure my OCD, as my roommate kindly called it. In fact, it made my desire to tidy everything up, more prevalent.

Luckily, in my field, this rare quality of mine was highly appreciated and it helped grant me a well-paid job for the culture section at _The Seattle Times,_ which basically consisted of reviewing cultural events such as concerts, shows, plays, musicals and ballets. Consequentially, one of the perks of the job was free tickets for me and Alice.

Flipping through the various radio stations, I searched for a song to ease me into sleep. I was about to give up when a slow tune filled the room and left me completely mesmerized by its sweet melody. It was absolutely captivating. Its rich notes caressed my ears and I wondered how a single piano could produce such a symphony.

I could picture the pianist's hands in my mind, seemingly flying over the keyboard, leaving none of the eighty-eight keys untouched. To add to my immense pleasure, the deep, soothing, soulful voice of a man began singing and goose bumps erupted on my skin.

The lyrics were obviously written by an experienced poet. It was the most romantic declaration of love I had ever heard and I secretly wished I was the lucky girl who inspired this masterpiece. As I immersed myself into the music, a wave of peacefulness and contentment washed over me and every muscle in my body relaxed. Briefly, I wondered how this man, whom I had never seen and whose name was still a complete mystery to me, could evoke such feelings in me.

Tears stung in my eyes as I leaned in closer to the speakers, secretly hoping that by decreasing the gap between myself and the stereo, it would bring me closer to this musician and unravel his mystery. Deep down, I knew it was a ridiculous thought, but I did it anyway. I needed to hear as much of this beautiful piece as possible. His romantic poetry tugged at my heart strings and touched my soul.

I sat there completely stunned, letting the melody sink in as the music swelled, signalling it was coming to a close. The music was so beautiful that when I heard the final note, my heart broke. After it faded, the announcer's voice declared the name of the radio station, but that was not the bit of information I longed to hear. My ears perked up, trying to obtain the identity of my newly discovered Prince Charming.

"And that, folks, was _"The Missing Piece"_ by your favourite singer of the week. Tune in tomorrow night at the same time when we will feature another beautiful song by-"

The radio cut off abruptly and my mouth hung open in disbelief. I peered at the stereo, wondering what in the world happened and why my luck was so terrible that it had to stop working at that very moment.

"What are you doing here, Bells?"

My head snapped in the direction of Alice's voice and I found her standing by the wall, in all her 4'10" glory, holding the plug to the stereo in her hand. She had disconnected it from the wall.

I glared at her with all my might, knowing that I would now have to wait until tomorrow night to find out the angelic singer's name. If looks could kill, she would have been six feet under right now. I was tempted to remind her that that was my house too, but I opted for the ever-effective, always entertaining, "Mind your own business, Miss Versace."

Unfortunately for me, she was the only person I had ever known to be immune to my infamous glares.

She just shrugged her shoulders and smiled. "It is Donatella to you, dear," she smiled. "Seriously though, Bella, this is the millionth time this month that you haven't gotten a decent night's sleep. You and I both know it will do you no good to stay up late tonight, since tomorrow, you have to attend another one of those ever-so-boring performances with a bunch of overly thin people dancing around in leotards, in order to review it for that newspaper column of yours."

Although she really enjoyed musicals and plays, for some reason, Alice absolutely hated ballets. She said they were too boring and she would rather go shopping. I wanted to dispute her parental-like comment, but she was right. As a critic, if I fell asleep during a performance, it would be one of the worst things that could happen to a ballet company, and it would also look very rude on my behalf. I would feel especially guilty if the particular performance didn't deserve it and was actually a well done show.

Nevertheless, to give in to Alice would have meant that I agreed with her, and I would never give her that satisfaction. I had always been very stubborn.

"That is an interesting periphrasis for the prosaic, overused word _ballet_, Alice. Only someone like you, the great she-Armani, could have come up with something like that. If you go back to sleep now, I swear I will keep it in mind for my next article."

She rolled her eyes and huffed childishly, and for a moment, I thought I was looking at a six-year old version of my flatmate. Actually, she hadn't changed much over the years, but that was one of the things I loved the most about her. Her personality was always so vibrant and optimistic and it was utterly infectious.

"Whatever, snail-eater," she joked.

After more than eight years, Alice still had not forgiven me for ordering escargots during our trip to Paris and withholding from her what they were until she put one in her mouth. The memory made me laugh so hard that my sides hurt. From her offended expression, she didn't look pleased, but then the corners of her mouth twitched up and she joined in.

"Please try and get some sleep, okay, Bella?" she pouted after we regained our composure.

"Okay," I smiled at her concern. "I'll try."

Satisfied, she turned on her heels and walked back to her bedroom. I was too tired to make the trek to my bedroom, and too restless to lie down on my bed anyway, so instead, I opted to remain in the living room and sleep on the couch.

Surprisingly, it didn't take me long to fall into a peaceful slumber, and I was certain that the company of my lovely, faceless mystery man in my dreams had something to do with that. The entrancing, sweet melody of his voice sang to me throughout the night, and when I awoke the next morning, I felt completely rejuvenated and excited for the evening to arrive so I could finally fill in the missing piece to my tantalizing puzzle of infatuation over the enchanting musician on the radio.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Thanks again to my wonderful beta, MissAlex. **

**I own a cat, a laptop, I even own a brand new mobile phone. Unfortunately, though, I do not own Twilight.**

**Chapter 2: Angel of the Airwaves **

The next morning, I wondered if the previous night's events were just a delightful creation of my overactive imagination, a result of my career as a journalist. Even so, now that I was completely awake and well-rested, I still felt tingly all over and I knew for sure that I wasn't imagining _that_. After a deep and meaningful reflection, I arrived at the conclusion that the owner of that husky, dreamy, velvety voice must have been Apollo himself, because no human being could have been graced with such a talent.

Today was Saturday, and although I was attending a ballet in the early evening for work, I still had the morning and afternoon to myself. Despite the workaholic façade that I put up for the rest of the world, apart from Alice, of course, I was secretly one of the laziest people on earth, and on weekends, I usually let my true nature take over.

My plan was to lie on the couch all day for as long as I could. The theme of my day was going to be _relaxation_, but fate, in the form of Alice, had other plans. She organized a shopping trip to the mall today, and between work and sleep-deprivation, I couldn't come up with a good enough excuse to save myself from that torture. Apparently, as she so put it, she needed her shopping fix in order to get through the ballet later tonight.

At ten o'clock, we left our apartment. Alice bounced in her seat the entire ride while I sulked in the passenger seat.

"Come on, Bells!" she giggled. "Try to smile at least. If you're trying to depress me, you should know that you're in over your head."

Of course, I knew that. Alice was a combination of vivacity and cheerfulness which was on the brink of explosion at all times. Her petite body was like a champagne bottle ready to be uncorked. Despite my sour mood, I couldn't help but smile.

"I know you, Alice, and I know it's impossible to get you down. Don't worry, I will allow you to play Barbie Bella for as long as you want today. Well, at least until closing time."

We arrived at our destination within a few minutes. After Alice parked her not-so-discreet yellow Porsche, and we exited the vehicle, I couldn't help but tease her.

"Hmm, Hell certainly isn't as hot as I thought it would be," I smirked as I scanned the mall parking lot. "I expected flames and people with horns and tails. Where are they? Are you sure we're at the right place, Al? Didn't you say we were going to the mall today?"

She shoved my shoulder playfully as we made our way towards the mall entrance. "Stop making fun of me! I know you secretly enjoy our shopping expeditions."

"Yeah, sure." I rolled my eyes with a smile. "And you know what I also like? Having my legs waxed. Keep dreaming, sis!

"If it helps you sleep at night, Fendi..." she sang.

The automatic doors slid open and we entered the mall. Alice, in her typical shopaholic frenzy, strode towards the stores, her short legs moving faster than I thought possible, leaving me panting as I tried to keep up with her. She stopped abruptly, eyebrow furrowed, and her eyes glossed over as though she was in some sort of a trance.

I groaned. I knew what that meant.

"Oh, Bells!" she exclaimed as she pointed at one of the shop windows. "That green dress right there is _just_ what you need. I know it will look great on you! Will you try it on, Bells? For me?" Her lower lip jutted out and she looked up at me with wide eyes.

Well, she was no psychic, but she _did_ have a sixth sense for clothes. But even though she had an excellent taste, we still had a few hours of shopping ahead of us, and if the torture started in the first few minutes, I didn't think I would come out of this hellhole alive. I contemplated telling her no, but unfortunately for me, her pout was very hard to resist and my resolved weakened.

"Can I say no?" I asked, in one last attempt to find a way out of this.

Instead of verbally responding, Alice squealed and clapped her hands while fervently shaking her head. I sighed in defeat. I guessed that meant she won.

We walked into the shop, and after briefly scanning the room, I knew this would be very _expensive_ torture. I tightened the grip on my purse, but my efforts were in vain. Once Alice made up her mind about an outfit, resistance was futile. It wasn't that I didn't have the money, I just didn't want to spend it on trivial things such as dresses and shoes. As George Bernard Shaw wisely said, "Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months."

That was my point precisely.

As my self-proclaimed personal shopper spoke with the store clerk, I had the chance to look at the _perfect_ dress more closely. It was undoubtedly nice, and not even remotely trashy, but it was still a little too pompous for me. As I turned away, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. It was a strapless, navy blue, knee-length dress, both elegant and dare I say, sexy?

Alice glanced in my direction and made a beeline right for me. Within a few moments, I found myself in the dressing room with my idea of the perfect dress in hand. She must've really liked my choice because she didn't even bring up the green dress.

"Come on, Bella! Hurry up!" Alice bellowed from the other side of the door. "I can't wait to see how it looks on you!"

I managed to put it on without doing any damage. With my coordination, or lack thereof, that was quite a great accomplishment. As soon as I stepped outside the dressing room, Alice attacked me. After all those years, it still amazed me how much she could say in just one  
breath.

"Oh Bella, you look simply fabulous. It's perfect!" she exclaimed. "You should wear it tonight. Oh, I'm so excited! With all the guys that I'm sure will ask for your number, this ballet might not be as boring as I thought it would be. You have to buy it, or I will." Without waiting for my response, she turned around and waved her hand in the air. "Miss, we've decided!"

I just smiled and let Alice do her thing. While I went back into the dressing room to change, my best friend hunted down the sales clerk to tell her the good news. Against my better judgement, I glanced at the price tag and cringed. Considering the amount, I knew that the clerk would be just as happy as Alice, if not more.

After one last quick look around the shop, Alice insisted on paying for my dress so we could continue on our shopping expedition. I found a pair of Jimmy Choo stilettos and a Fendi bag which matched my new purchase perfectly, and although my feet hurt just looking at my new shoes, I couldn't help but feel satisfied with my choices.

I wasn't a fashion connoisseur like Alice, however she did ask for my opinion on various items and I ended up helping her pick out some skirts and blouses, as if her wardrobe wasn't full enough. My favourite was a beautiful Calvin Klein blood red knee-length skirt that looked spectacular on her. It also matched perfectly with a top she'd purchased recently at Burberry. We decided that she was going to wear that outfit and some red pumps. Finally, at four thirty, Alice declared it was time to leave. My aching muscles were grateful.

On the way home, I messed with the radio, attempting to find a station playing a decent song. As I scanned the various options, my search came to a halt when I recognized the voice of the DJ from the previous night.

"To all of my wonderful listeners, your ears do not deceive you. As promised, today we have managed to score an interview with the popular up-and-coming musician you've all been calling in for. His new song has been the most requested song of the week and we have him here with us right now. Hello, Mr. Dames. How are you?"

My heart stopped when I heard my angel speak.

"Please, call me Andrew."

**Let me know what you think. Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: ****So, this will tell you a little more about Andrew Dames. Hope you like it! As always, MissAlex betaed it. Thank you Alex! A special thanks also to SheilaShoe and Littlechoo: your reviews brightened my day **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

**Chapter 3: Centre Stage  
**  
My Prince sounded diffident, but that made him even more adorable to me.

"Bella," Alice whined. "Please, I don't want to listen to some random guy who dreams about being the new Freddie Merc-"

"Mary Alice, stop complaining! He's very talented. Now shush and keep driving."  
She diverted her gaze away from the road for a moment, just long enough to give me the evil eye, but I just ignored her and focused on the interview.

"Okay, Andrew. I know you live here in Seattle, so what is it that you like best about the city?" the DJ asked.

My heart skipped a beat when I heard we lived in the same city. We had at least one connection, even though it was something small. But I didn't want Alice to notice my excitement so I kept my cool.

"I like it a lot. The music scene is so unique and it allows guys like me to rise up from obscurity and share my music with a broader audience. The world might not know who I am, but to get musical recognition by the people of Seattle is more than I could've asked for. The city is so big that you can easily lose yourself in the crowd, yet at the same time, the entertainment community is a close knit group and very supportive. There's been some great talent to come out of Seattle and I'm proud to say I live here. Even though my songs have been played on the radio, I'm still able to walk the streets and all of my old friends treat me the same. And the people that do recognize me at my gigs after they hear me play, come up to me and tell me how much they love my music, but they don't intrude otherwise. It's a very laidback atmosphere and I can live my life like I always have. It's just that now more people are listening to my music than before." He chuckled softly and my skin tingled. His voice was heavenly and his laughter so melodic it could've been its own song.

"You're absolutely right about that, Andrew. Seattle is where it's at for up and coming artists like yourself who've been performing around the city for years without any recognition. Well I can tell you now, you've definitely been recognized and our switchboard has been lighting up with requests for your songs."

"I really do appreciate the support," Andrew added. I stared mesmerized at the radio, wishing I could see him and match a face with the name.

"So is it true that you don't like being in the spotlight?" the DJ continued. "My sources tell me that you declined all the offers you received from all the major record labels. You could easily become famous all over the world if you signed a contract. So why don't you?"

Andrew chuckled again and if Alice wasn't with me, I would've squealed like a little schoolgirl.

"Well, _famous_ is the operative word here," he replied softly. His words sounded so eloquent, yet he still seemed very shy. "I don't want to be some product that the industry wants to sell and then discard when they've moved on to the next big trend. I want my music to be taken seriously. I'm not a manufactured artist. I write my song owns and play my own instruments. I'd rather have fans appreciate my music at the local venues in the city instead of embarking on world tours and selling out to the mass market. If I could find a happy medium between touring the globe and having complete control over my carer and my music then I would, but unfortunately, those big record labels like to call all the shots and that just doesn't interest me, no matter how much money they throw at me."

As I listened to Andrew's responses, I couldn't help but think we had a lot in common. He held his integrity very high, as did I, and he wasn't one to seek attention. The big difference, of course, was that I couldn't sing or play an instrument to save my life, whereas Andrew could give John Lennon a run for his money. But still, our personalities seemed similar. Maybe I was reaching to find similarities between us because, really, I didn't know much about him, but I truly _did_ feel a connection with him.

"Man, you're definitely a humble guy. That's great. And I'm sure the ladies appreciate that," the DJ laughed. "So tell me, is there one chick that you're seeing or do you like to play the field and keep your options open?"

"No, there isn't anyone special, but I'm not playing the field either. I'm focused on my music and if the right girl comes along, then great. But I'd definitely never use my music to score meaningless relationships. That's just not who I am."

"Very diplomatic" the DJ laughed. "I'd like to believe you, but that just sounds too good to be true. You're like every woman's dream. But then maybe that's the game you play in order to get the ladies. Smooth, Dames, very smooth."

"It's not a game," my angel whispered.

Frustration and truth laced his answer and I scoffed at the DJ's insinuation. I noticed Alice rolling her eyes and I assumed she, like the DJ, didn't believe Andrew either. But something in his voice made me trust his reply.

However, even though I felt bad for him, I was ecstatic to know that he was single. Once again, I had to compose myself so Alice wouldn't get suspicious. There was no way she would understand. I listened to the rest of the interview in silence, while my heart beat wildly in my chest. The more I heard from Andrew, the more similarities I found and the more captivated by him I became.

"You say that there's no special chick in your life, so where do you get your inspiration, from?" the DJ inquired. "Your songs always seem so heartfelt."

"I think there's many different kinds of love and relationships in life, some of which I have experienced firsthand: Brotherhood, friendship, sexual relationships with someone I cared about...I just translate the feelings they evoke in me into romantic love, and it works."

Thank goodness I was sitting down because when I heard the words _sexual relationship_, my knees grew weak. If I'd been standing I would've certainly toppled over. I felt a tinge of jealously, knowing that he'd been with women in the past and I silently chastised myself for feeling that way. Could I be anymore pathetic? I'd heard this guy all of five minutes!

"You make it sound so easy. So you mentioned sexual relationships but you said you don't play the field or have a girl in your life. Can you clarify that?"

Andrew sighed, seemingly uncomfortable with the question. I couldn't blame him. "I'm not going to discuss my personal life, but I will say that just because I don't have anyone now, doesn't mean I never had. But I'm definitely not attached at the moment. Those other relationships were just a part of growing up."

The air rushed out of my lungs at Andrew's reply. I was so grateful he wasn't hung up on some ex-girlfriend.

"Yeah, makes sense. Well, thank you for your time, buddy! I know you don't like interviews, but I can guarantee that our listeners really appreciated it."

My heart fell. I was incredibly upset that the interview was over so soon and I couldn't get any further information about him. But then again, it could've gone on all day and I still wouldn't have been satisfied.

"No problem. It was nice. Thanks."

"Great!" the DJ announced. "And that folks, was Andrew Dames! Remember to tune into Radio Seattle 101.1 tonight at 2 AM for an hour long Andrew Dames marathon."

Alice huffed and gave me an annoyed look. "An hour marathon at 2 AM? Jeez, doesn't that show you how popular he really is. They couldn't have given him prime time?"

I forced myself to keep quiet.

"So Bella, it's over. Can I change the station now?"

I nodded and Alice reached for the dial immediately. After scanning through the available channels, she settled on a Pop music station. I settled back into my seat and tuned out the awful music. It simply didn't hold a candle to the songs of Andrew Dames. Alice tapped her hands on the steering wheel and sang along while I thought about the interview tonight. I couldn't wait to hear his beautiful, sweet, deep voice again. It was actually a good thing that it was on until 2 AM because with the ballet tonight, I wouldn't be home until quite late. To anyone else, my interest in him would seem ridiculous and strange, but I couldn't explain it. I just felt it.

We arrived home just after five. It had now started to rain so I exited Alice's Porsche and raced to the main entrance of the building, trying not fall on my butt. Alice was faster, as always, and the minute I stepped into the apartment, she went into 'getting ready' mode.

"Hurry up, Bells! We don't have much time to make you look even more beautiful than you already are."

I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not, but I smiled at her enthusiasm.

Her intentions were good, so even though I was scared to find out what she had in mind, I followed her willingly. Of course, my current dazed state as I daydreamed about my musician influenced my compliance as well.

We spent two good hours in the bathroom playing Alice's favourite game of dress up, which had been more painful than I had anticipated, but when it was all over, I had to admit that it was completely worth it.

When my insuperable make-up, clothing and hair stylist finally let me look in the mirror, I barely recognized the girl staring back at me. The dress I purchased earlier was a good choice. Even though I felt prettier than usual, I still couldn't help feeling a little self-conscious next to my friend. Contrary to popular belief, Alice Brandon couldn't work miracles so I would never measure up to her.

She had a flawless, petite figure. She did her own hair and makeup and she looked spectacular. Her black, spiky hair looked like modern work of art and her pale skin looked almost translucent. The Calvin Klein red skirt, Burberry top and red pumps she wore complimented her tiny figure perfectly. If she didn't make it as a designer, she could be a model. She held herself so gracefully that even with her 4'10" height she could still outdo a tall, leggy supermodel any day.

I didn't notice I had zoned out until Alice waved her hand in front of my face.

"Hello, Bella? Are you there?" she giggled.

Playfully, I pushed her hand away. After choosing our purses for the evening and giving ourselves one more look in the hall mirror, we were off to the ballet. As we drove to the theatre in Alice's yellow-painted baby, we talked about the impending performance, but the Andrew Dames song marathon tonight was never far from my mind.

**A/N: Let me know if you like it and review :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Ok, so guys next chapter Edward will make his appearance, but first other characters must be introduced. A huge huge huge huge thanks to my beta, MissAlex who is fantastic and I really don't deserve her :D, and to all of you who commented or added this story to your favourites or story alerts. It really means a lot to me and helps me write better and faster ******

**Disclaimer: If you think I own Twilight, well… You know, I know this really good doctor… XD**

**Chapter 4: The Great Escape  
**  
The ballet progressed without incident, aside from me having to nudge Alice every few minutes to keep her awake. But as the performance drew to a close, that became the least of my worries. As we stood up and turned around to walk up the aisle to exit the theater, I spotted Michael Newton making googly-eyes at me from across the room. He smoothed out his brown hair and gave me a wink and I shuddered.

We first met when we were fourteen and ended up at the same college, with the same major. He worked for the _Seattle Today_ as a performing arts reviewer as well, but he didn't seem to fully understand that I represented the competition, or that our high school years were long over, and adulthood was supposed to be the next step.

In our freshman year of high school, he developed a huge crush on me and any time we ran into each other at these sorts of events, he would relentlessly pursue me for a date. I always managed to decline politely, but he never relented. Alice thought it was quite comical whereas I was just fed up.

Alright, I was more than fed up. He absolutely disgusted me with his cocky know-it-all attitude and his belief that he was God's gift to women, and if it wasn't in my nature to be cordial with everyone, I would've told him so. Instead, I just tried to avoid him as much as I could. But in most cases, Alice's bright yellow Porsche in the parking lot was a dead giveaway of my presence at an event, so Mike would make it his mission to corner me before the evening was over. Today was obviously no exception. I seriously had to think about investing in my own, unassuming automobile.

As we walked up the aisle, Mike waited for me with a sloppy grin on his face.

"Well, this should be interesting," Alice giggled as she clutched my arm. The closer we got to him, the more my stomach churned. My eyes scanned the theater, looking for an alternate exit.

The crowd swelled behind us and someone explained to his female companion, rather loudly, how a few hip-hop moves could've made the 'most boring performance he'd ever seen' a little more bearable. His date chastised him and they playfully bantered back and forth, while I kept my stare transfixed on Mike.

When Alice and I stopped suddenly because a couple emerged from one of the rows in front of us unexpectedly, the people behind us halted in their tracks, wondering what was going on. I glanced over my shoulder to apologize, and found a tall, burly man with a stunning blonde woman on his arm. They were the people joking around about the show.

As I turned around completely and scanned the couple, I instantly felt intimidated. Blondie looked like she belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine. She wore a gorgeous little black dress and very expensive looking pair of black stilettos. I was no Alice, but I was pretty sure they were Jimmy Choo's. Her golden hair fell down her shoulders in waves and her fair complexion was flawless. To say I felt envious, would be an understatement.

She possessed such beauty and confidence, something I would never have. Her date continued rambling about the ballet and she looked me up and down as she listened to him.

"Bella,!" I heard Mike call out.

I cringed and exchanged glances with Alice. "Time to run and hide!" she exclaimed with a smile.

We were about to scoot across one of the aisles to attempt our great escape, when the blonde cocked one perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Aren't you two a little too old to be playing hide and seek, girls?" she asked.

The big guy she was with stopped talking in mid-sentence, tore his eyes away from her, and looked back and forth between Alice and me with a perplexed expression on his face. Then he surprised me when he smiled. It didn't match his intimidating stature at all.

Alice answered Blondie's question. "Well, yes, technically, but you see, my friend here has a very persistent admirer we must escape from. He thinks her refusal to accept his date invitation means she's just playing hard to get. You'd think after twelve years he'd get the hint, but noooo. He's just stuck in ninth grade, only without the acne he used to have." Alice scanned the woman's outfit. "By the way I love your shoes! Jimmy Choo's, right?"

The big teddy bear of a man's eyes widened. He was obviously shocked that Alice managed to say all of that in one breath. I was used to it, but to other people, her tiny stature was misleading and they expected someone with a more demure personality.

Blondie smiled radiantly at the mention of her stilettos and she and Alice started chatting happily about shoes and bags, while Mr Grizzly and I just looked uncomfortably at each other.

He glanced over at his blonde companion and when he realized that she and Alice weren't going to stop talking anytime soon, he cleared his throat with a smile.

"I'm Emmet, nice to meet you." He extended his hand out to me and I accepted it graciously.

"It's nice to meet you too. I'm Bella."

Glancing over my shoulder, I spotted Mike making his way towards me. Luckily, the crowd was still dense as they filed past the four of us, so I was safe - for now - but I still had to plan my escape without coming across as rude to our new acquaintances.

I turned around and Emmett glanced over my shoulder, seemingly aware of my predicament. "My girlfriend Rosalie and I could help you, you know. If we stick together, maybe this stalker of yours won't bother you and we can exit in the opposite direction of him. We could act as buffers," he chuckled. I could tell from his warm demeanor and kindness that he was a nice man.

"Oh, I appreciate the offer, but you don't have to. I don't want to ruin your night."

"Don't worry, you won't," he laughed and looked behind me again. "You have about sixty seconds to make up your mind before he reaches you."

My blood froze in my veins and I shuddered at the idea of having to face another one of Mike's relentless proposals.

"Well, if it's alright with your girlfriend..."

"Sure it is. We'll help her out, won't we, Rosie?" He squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips for a soft kiss, but she was oblivious to his words and gesture.

"Uh, Rosie?" His eyebrows furrowed together. His attempt at gaining her attention was in vain. With Emmett's hand still in hers, Rosalie and Alice made their way down the aisle in the opposite direction of Mike, deep in conversation. Emmett trailed after them, not given much of a choice in the matter.

"Come, Bella," he called out. Glancing over my shoulder at Mike, my desperation to get out of here overwhelmed me, so I eagerly followed them out of the theater, amidst my stalker's protesting.

By the time we arrived at the parking lot, we'd lost him in the crowd, and I let out a sigh of relief.

I definitely owed my new friends big time.

**A/N: Find a minute to leave a comment and make me happy :) Pretty please?**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: OK, it's finally Eddie time! lol Anyway, real life is taking its toll on me and I'm exhausted, so if you left a comment you would help me feel better :)**

**Disclaimer: I wouldn't mind owning Twilight, but I'm not Stephanie Meyer… **

**Chapter 5****: The Dark Silhouette**

I found myself at Rosalie's and Emmett's house because Rose, Alice and I were having some kind of slumber party. Obviously, the fact that we were in some stranger's bedroom didn't faze Alice for she and Rose hit it off immediately and the planned the entire night without any apprehension. Emmet had been forced out his own home around midnight so that we girls could have a night to get to know each other. He seemed happy though, and I believe it was because Rosalie, by her own admission, did not bond easily with other girls and he was relieved she'd found female friends.

I was not surprised to hear that about her. She was intimidating. But once I got to know her, and got past her daunting beautiful looks, I could see what Emmett saw in her and why they loved each other so much. Rose and I were complete opposites, but I admired her. I found myself really enjoying her company and it seemed as though the feeling was mutual.

I stopped paying attention to Alice, who was currently telling Rose about her work, and took a good look around. Rosalie lent me and Alice pyjamas to sleep in and the result was quite comical. My sweet, tiny roommate was swimming in a fuchsia lacy nightgown and matching robe, and my appearance was quite similar. Alice and I were certainly not leggy models like Rose so her clothes were so big on us.

Rosalie had offered us other options, but as soon as Alice saw something fuchsia, there was no going back. I, on the other hand, had on a pair of red silk pyjamas - at least they were comfortable.

Rosalie jumped off the bed, catching me by surprise, causing me to fall on the wooden floor with a loud thump.

"I'm so sorry, Bella! Are you hurt?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern. "I didn't mean to scare you but I've just had the most brilliant idea!"

I laughed to myself.

_Hurt?! _

This was nothing compared to my standard, clumsy mishaps. I was just about to respond but Alice beat me to it.

"Oh, Bella's fine," she dismissed Rose's concern with a wave of her hand. "She's used to it. Her falls are usually much more spectacular, to tell you the truth. Once, we were in-"

"Rose, tell us about your idea," I interrupted. Nothing good could come out of Alice telling Rose one of my embarrassing stories. If Rose and I were going to become friends, she'd experience my clumsiness firsthand anyway. She didn't need to hear about it from Alice.

Sensing my discomfort, Rose smiled and began explaining her idea. "My mother-in-law, Esme, gave me these two wonderful gowns that I absolutely _must_ show you. They belonged to her when she was younger and they're gorgeous. I haven't tried them on yet, so I'd love it if you two could give me your opinions on them."

Alice bounced up and down on the bed, clapping her hands excitedly. As I witnessed her reaction, my face contorted into a fearful grimace. An overly excited Alice was not what I needed right now. What I wanted to do was listen to the Andrew Dames marathon on the radio and fall asleep to his soothing, melodic voice.

"That would be amazing! This is going to be the best slumber party I've ever had!" Alice exclaimed.

My eyes widened. Rose had no idea how big that statement was coming from Alice. When we were in high school, Alice's slumber parties were considered the most exclusive of events. She had always been the popular kid in school whereas I had done everything not to attract the attraction of my classmates. Alice's slumber parties had been the only times that I let down my defenses.

Rose shared her enthusiasm and I figured she had been a lot like Alice in high school. From the way this was going, it was like they were teenagers again instead of mature women in their twenties. But I supposed everyone had to be carefree every now and then.

With a sigh, I realized that Dolce had met her Gabbana, and I was more like a no-name brand from Wal-Mart.

It was clear to me that it was time to plan my escape. Glancing at my wrist-watch, I saw that it was 2.05 am. My urgency to depart this room increased dramatically. This was such an opulent place, I was pretty sure that Rose had a stereo system around here somewhere. It was time to explore.

"Well, Rose, I appreciate the offer, but I don't think my presence is needed here. Alice's expertise is more than sufficient. I really don't know the first thing about fashion. If I weren't a journalist, I wouldn't even know how to spell the word…"

I let out a fake laugh as Rose looked at me incredulously. "Y-you don't like fashion?" she stammered in disbelief.

I was pretty sure that she was going to kick my ass to the guest room because of my shocking admission.

Alice came to my rescue. "Rose, Bella is right. She wouldn't enjoy looking at dresses. I say we let her be. She's endured enough Barbie Bella for today."

_I knew that we were friends for a reason, shorty!_ I smiled to myself.

I shot her a grateful look and stood up off the floor.

Smoothing out my pajamas, I offered Rose a small smile. "Would you mind if I went downstairs for a bit and listened to some music?" I asked.

"Yes, if you want…" her voice trailed off as though she silently wanted me to change my mind. She still couldn't believe that I didn't want to stay with her and Alice and watch them judge dresses.

"Thanks!" I called out as I gave them a parting wave and exited the room. I couldn't keep myself away from my soulful singer any longer.

I ran full speed down the stairs and when I reached the living room, I lunged for the super expensive, super complicated stereo system in the corner. It took me a few minutes, but I finally figured out how to switch it on. Frantically, I turned the radio dial and stopped when the familiar voice of my angel filled the large room, calming me instantly.

I fell onto the sofa with a relaxed sigh and rested my head on the plush cushions.

Contrary to _The Missing Piece_, this song was about loneliness, not love. My Prince's voice was low, full of emotion and so calm, but at the same time, so heartbreakingly fierce. I couldn't understand how he managed to stir such a vast range of emotions in me.

As I listened carefully to his lyrics, I was envious of his writing ability. If I had even an ounce of his talent, then maybe I wouldn't be reviewing other peoples' works – I'd be writing my own.

As I dreamed, my eyelids grew heavier. The softness of the sofa, combined with the smoothness of Andrew's voice and my long, tiring day, made me fall asleep quickly.

Vaguely aware of my surroundings, I stirred, and woke up disoriented. Once I remembered where I was, I squinted at the digital clock on the stereo to find out the time. I'd been out for less than an hour and luckily, my personal Apollo was still singing in the background. Warmth encompassed the dark, vast room and my skin tingled. It was such a brilliant sensation and I had no idea where it came from, but I welcomed the feeling. Closing my eyes, I hummed along with the new tune, its perky rhythm bringing a smile to my face. After about a minute, the song finished and the DJ's voice took its place.

In my hazy, relaxed state, I scanned my surroundings. I blinked rapidly as I caught sight of a dark figure standing perfectly still across the room, watching me. At first, all I could see were his stunning emerald green eyes which were so bright that they could light up the whole dark room, but then my gaze traveled to his stylish, unruly hair. It shone throughout the darkness. It looked bronze, a color so striking that I couldn't pry my eyes from it.

As I studied his cheekbones that looked sharp enough to cut through stone, my breath hitched in my throat. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen. His beauty was almost ethereal. His pale complexion was illuminated by the sliver of moonlight that peaked through the drapes and his chiseled jaw line sent my heart aflutter. But what really captivated me were his luscious, full lips that looked so irresistibly kissable.

He leaned against the wall, his hands jammed into his pockets as he scanned my body. My face heated up in response to the intensity of his stare but I didn't want him to look away. Suddenly, he freed his hands and pushed himself away from the wall towards me

I blinked several times, just to ensure that I wasn't dreaming. But the apparition of this gorgeous man did not fade so I knew I was wide awake. He kneeled down beside the couch, mere inches from me, his sweet scent wafting into my lungs, intoxicating me as his lips parted slightly.

I released a breath that I hadn't even realized I'd been holding and unexpectedly, he caressed my cheek with the back of his hand, sending a jolt of electricity blazing through my veins. My heart hammered in my chest and my breathing became labored from his tender touch. Much to my dismay, after he swept his thumb sensually across my bottom lip, he slowly pulled away, leaving my skin burning in his wake.

That's when my fear and my survival instinct decided to kick in.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

**A/N: Like it? Review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N****: I know it's been ages since the last update but believe me real life has been crazy!!! I want to thank everyone who took the time to read this story and my wonderful beta MissAlex! Seriously… she is the most patient woman ever and I really don't deserve her :D:D:D:D**

**Anyway, here it goes…**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, but I wish I did**

**Chapter 6: Behind Those Eyes**

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

I lay frozen in fear, a loud scream emanating from deep within my chest. Reaching for the remote, I turned off the stereo while my gorgeous admirer staggered backwards until he collided with the far wall, looking absolutely stunned over my outburst. Our wide eyes locked.

Vaguely, I heard Rose and Alice calling my name, their concern evident in the high pitch of their cries. They descended the stairs in bare feet, creating soft thumps with every step they took. Upon entering the living room, Rose and Alice looked at me with furrowed eyebrows. My bronze-haired angel diverted his attention from me, focusing on them instead.

I wasn't surprised. They were both so beautiful. Still, I couldn't help but feel jealous which was absolutely ridiculous considering that I didn't know anything about him except that he looked around my age and possessed extraordinarily good looks. When Alice and Rose discovered him against the wall, Rose smiled.

"Edward?! What are you doing here? Emmett's not here because I'm having a slumber party and I kicked him out."

My mouth dropped open as I started putting the pieces together. Okay, so this mystery man was not an intruder - he knew Rose and Emmett. But why was he entering their house in the middle of the night?

Edward didn't respond. Instead, he focused his eyes on me. His intense stare penetrated deep into my soul and I felt my face heating up. He turned to leave but Rose rushed over to him.

"Wait, Edward! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel unwelcome. If you want to stay, you can sleep in the guest bedroom. Emmet will be back around seven tomorrow morning."

Still, this Edward character, said nothing. But he didn't move to leave, either. Instead, he perched himself against the wall again. Alice and I exchanged confused glances. It was obvious that we didn't know the full story, but for some reason, I wanted to know everything about this handsome man in front of me.

Upon closer inspection, I realized he looked extremely exhausted. He had dark circles under his piercing green eyes and from the way he leaned against the wall, it seemed as though he used it for support.

He remained silent and closed his eyes for a moment before his eyelids fluttered open and he flashed Rose a knee-buckling smile and a nod. His grin was so dazzling that if I wasn't sitting on the couch, I would've fallen to the floor.

"Okay, follow me and help me set up your room," Rose instructed. "Bella, Alice," she turned to us. "I'll be back in a minute."

Alice and I watched in silence as she and my favourite emerald-eyed enigma ascended the stairs with Rose. When we were alone, Alice spoke first.

"You like him," she stated matter-of-factly. "You shouldn't, Bella. That man looks like bad news. And he didn't even say anything to Rose - how rude!. I know you hate it when people tell you what you have to do but I'm your best friend and it's my job to warn you about-"

"Alice," I held up my hand to stop her. "Take a breath. I don't like him - I don't even _know_ him. Of course, he is attractive but that's hardly the proper criteria for wanting a relationship with someone. I really appreciate your concern but don't worry about me."

Alice eyed me suspiciously. I didn't blame her for being skeptical because as my explanation spilled from my lips, I wasn't even sure that _I_ believed it. The truth was that I _wanted_ to get to know this Edward. I just hoped that Miss Gucci here would leave it alone for now.

She sighed. "Alright...if you say so, Bella."

As I smiled at my best friend, Rose re-entered the room.

"Bella, I'm sorry if Edward scared you. He's Emmet's brother - actually, step brother. Anyway, he's completely harmless -"

"Rose, you don't owe me any explanation. I was just surprised to see him here, that's all. If he's Emmet's step brother, then he has more of a right to be here than I do."

"If anything, I would be apologizing to Edward," Alice piped up. "The poor boy looked even more scared than Bella. Is he alright?"

Rose sighed and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair. With a wave of her hand, she gestured for us to follow her back upstairs.

She didn't speak until we arrived in her bedroom and she shut the door. When we sat down on the bed, Rose began explaining, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Okay, well… Edward is two years younger than Emmett..." It was obvious by Rose's hesitation that Edward was a delicate topic.

"Anyway, they are very close but also very different. Whereas, Emmet is an extroverted, uninhibited, cheerful person, Edward is reserved, shy, and I believe he feels lonely a lot of the time. Sometimes I look into his eyes and my heart just breaks."

I offered her a kind smile, encouraging her to continue.

"As I'm sure you've both noticed, Emmett can be very loud whereas Edward keeps quiet."

Alice and I could relate. She was always the life of the party while I preferred to be the wallflower. I didn't blame Edward for that. In fact, I understood.

"Yes, I noticed Edward was very quiet," Alice mused.

Rose looked down and shifted awkwardly on the bed. "Well, what I mean by quiet, is that, he doesn't talk. Ever," she explained. "The Cullens adopted Edward when he was eight years old and they've never heard him speak. They believe he can speak, he just chooses not to. I think something traumatic happened to him before he was placed in foster care. Apparently, he visited a clinical psychologist when he was younger, but Emmett never knew the details as to why. He hasn't gone in years so Emmett believes that whatever he went through, he's learned to deal with it on his own. He's sort of a mystery, but he's really very sweet. He has a key to our place so he shows up whenever he likes. Usually he knocks, but considering the late hour, I'm not surprised that he chose to enter undetected. He seeks Emmett's company, I believe, because he doesn't have any friends. So he'll come here and we'll all just sit around and watch television or have a nice dinner. I think Edward just appreciates the company every now and then. Their parents live in Chicago so we're the only family he has here in Seattle."

Upon concluding her explanation, the three of us sat in silence for a few moments. The sound of my heart beating in my chest was deafening as I thought about Edward sleeping in the guest bedroom down the hall. I wanted more than ever to learn more about him now. Although I was curious about his past, I was more interested in learning about the man he was presently. Alice and Rose seemed to get along famously after meeting tonight and I had felt like the odd one out. Now I wondered if maybe meeting Rose hadn't just been fated for Alice. Maybe I was _meant_ to meet Edward tonight.

As Rose and Alice pulled out various nail polish bottles to give each other manicures and pedicures, I remained on the bed with a smile on my face. My vow was to get to know silent, brooding Edward and unlock the mystery behind those intoxicating green eyes and dazzling smile.

**A/N:**** So… review? **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, guys. I was away with my family for a week and it was great to take a break to be honest. My beta is truly a saint for putting up with me, I really do not deserve her. Thank you, Alex! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight**

**Chapter Seven: A Sugary Sweet Nightcap**

I was wide awake in Rosalie's and Emmet's king-sized bed, lying in the fetal position, trying to avoid Alice's kicks. I had to give her some credit though - she was extraordinarily dynamic, even in her sleep.

My little best friend slept in the middle with me on her right side and Rose on her left. They were both completely unconscious and I observed that while Dolce liked to practice her martial arts skills in her sleep, Gabbana was flawlessly still.

Secretly, I hoped that she was a snorer or something, but alas, Rosalie was inhumanly perfect. She wore a peaceful smile on her face and she had not moved an inch since we went to bed over two hours ago.

Between Alice's stabs in my ribs and Rose's unnerving pose, I knew I would never fall asleep, and my mind wandered for the millionth time that night back to Edward.

I couldn't understand how someone so beautifully perfect on the exterior, could be such an emotional wreck on the inside. His behaviour wasn't normal and there was probably something seriously wrong with him that made him remain silent all of the time. But instead of turning against him, it only made me want to help him more.

Rose stated that he had consulted with a psychologist in the past but it looked like it hadn't done him any good if he still wasn't speaking to anyone. And the poor guy was adopted which in itself had to be traumatic. Were his parents dead? What if they had abused him? The more I thought about it, the more agitated I got. He might have been a complete stranger but I felt a weird connection with him and knowing he was hurting, hurt me as well. My father, Charlie, always told me that I was too compassionate, but I never thought it was a bad thing.

Since the clock read four in the morning, I realized that there was no point in trying to get some sleep. So instead, I slid off the bed and directed myself towards the kitchen. If I was going to stay up all night, I, at least, needed to have some chocolate in my system.

Yup, that was my dirty little secret. I had an unhealthy addiction to chocolate. Forget about ambrosia, chocolate was the true nectar of the Gods. And somehow, I was pretty sure it wouldn't be too hard to find some in Emmet's home.

I entered the kitchen and took a look inside the cupboards. My assumptions were confirmed when I stumbled upon a box with _Godiva_ written on it.

_Bingo! _

I grabbed the chocolate and sat down at the kitchen table. After eating a few pieces, I felt thirsty and since I was already abusing Emmet's and Rose's hospitality, I decided that drinking a glass of milk couldn't really hurt at this point.

I opened the fridge and stared at the food and drinks that were stocked inside. It looked like they cleaned out the entire supermarket! Immediately, I came up with all the dishes I could prepare with these ingredients and I realized that Alice and I could get by for a month with all of this food. Rosalie must've spent half of her life in the kitchen. Poor girl.

I loved cooking, but I loved eating much more. Unfortunately, the former was up to me in our household. Since Alice wasn't as talented with the stove as she was with a sewing machine, she and I made a deal. I would cook for us and she would clean up our place.

After removing the milk carton, I closed the fridge, startled to find a dark figure behind the door. I would have screamed if my mysterious visitor hadn't immediately put his hand over my mouth to stop me. When his skin made contact with my lips, shivers shot down my spine. Without a doubt, I knew the hand belonged to Edward.

My heart beat rapidly, more from excitement than nervousness, his presence affecting me more than it should have. And the fact that he still hadn't removed his hand from my mouth didn't help the situation, either. I stared at him with wide eyes, while he studied my face.

I didn't know how long we stayed in that position but the longer we stood there, the more I didn't want him to pull away. Finally, he snapped out of his trance and quickly retrieved his hand, flashing me an apologetic glance, which I responded to with a smile.

While I stood frozen, looking like a fool, he gestured for me to sit down at the table where my – well, Emmet's chocolate – sat long forgotten. Forcing my feet to move, I obliged to his silent request and Edward took a seat next to me. I looked at him, slightly confused, but he just gave me the most breath-taking crooked grin and suddenly, I didn't need an explanation. He could sneak up and touch me whenever he wanted.

I studied his graceful movements as he took out a small notepad and a pen from his pocket and started writing something down. He presented the pad to me and I accepted it without hesitation. His handwriting was graceful and artsy, like he held a degree in calligraphy or something.

Sorry for earlier. I was worried that if you screamed you would have woken up Rosalie and your friend. I realize that my actions were peculiar but I assure you, I did not want to make you feel uncomfortable.

I reread his note over and over again, amazed by the elegance of his words. He must have thought I was hesitating with my reply on purpose because his gorgeous lips formed a frown. I didn't know whether to reply aloud or on paper, but I sort of thought that it was more romantic if I wrote it down. So I picked up the pen from the table and scribbled on the notepad.

_You don't need to apologize, Edward. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one who should be apologizing. With my reactions to you so far, I cannot have made a good first impression. _

When I was finished, I looked at my work, and cringed inwardly at the sharp contrast between my handwriting and Edward's. A six year old could have done a better job. How embarrassing.

I really should have listened to Mrs. Carlson in second grade when she told me I had to work on my cursive writing skills. But there was nothing I could do about it now so, reluctantly, I passed the notepad to Edward.

I placed the pen on the table and watched him as he read my message. Gradually, his features relaxed and by the time he was finished, a small smile played upon his tantalizing lips. He picked up the pen once more and began composing his reply.

Quite the contrary, actually. You really impressed me and I mean that in the best way possible. You seem like a wonderful girl and it is not your fault that I have managed to sneak up on you two times in a row. I would be pretty scared, too. By the way, what were you doing in the living room all alone earlier? I have never taken part in a slumber party before but shouldn't the participants be together?

As soon as I read his response, my mouth curled up into a shy smile. Did he really think that I was wonderful? I could feel the tell-tale signs of a blush creeping into my cheeks and I looked down at the tabletop to conceal my face from my bronze-haired Adonis. Why did I have to have such messed up circulation?

Placing the notepad down on the table, I composed my reply.

_Yes, hanging out together is sort of the point of a slumber party, but Alice and Rosalie were playing dress up and I'm not really into that kind of stuff. I preferred to come down here and listen to the radio. _

I paused for a moment, wondering if it was a good idea to tell Edward about Andrew, but there really was no reason why I should keep my admiration for the artist from him. It wasn't like he would be jealous or anything.

_You see, lately, I have been really taken with this singer, Andrew Dames. I don't know if you know him. He is from Seattle and even though he is not that famous, he is really talented. You should listen to some of his songs if you haven't already. I can guarantee that you won't be disappointed. Anyway, there was an Andrew Dames marathon on the radio so that's why I came downstairs._

I smiled as I passed him the notepad and watched him read my reply. This time, his expression showed no indication of what he was thinking. He stared blankly at the paper for a good minute before taking the pen from my hand. As our finger brushed, a spark shot through me and for a brief moment, I thought he had felt it too, for his eyes locked with mine intently before he averted his gaze once again.

He slid the notepad in my direction.

I do know him

I looked down at the four words in front of me, so abrupt and inexpressive, and couldn't understand Edward's sudden change in mood. Had I offended him? Maybe he was a hardcore heavy metal fan and loathed Andrew's music. I hoped it wouldn't affect our conversation, but if he was that uptight about something like that, then that was his problem, not mine.

_Do you not like him? Maybe you prefer other genres? I don't know… rap? Metal? Hip Hop?_

Edward read my message and shook his head with his oh-so-charming crooked grin which had reappeared on his handsome face. I felt relieved his good mood had returned.

It's not that. I'm just more of a classical kind of guy. Sure, Andrew is talented, but I just don't believe the guy is as great as everyone thinks he is.

I was glad he felt comfortable enough around me to tell me what he truly thought, but I couldn't sit here reading his attack on Andrew without defending him.

_I'm sorry, Edward, but I disagree. I think Andrew is _extremely_ talented. His music is fantastic and when he plays it sounds like an entire orchestra performing with him. I'm a critic for _The Seattle Times_ and I have attended many concerts in my life to know that this isn't an ability you can acquire with practice. Even though I have not seen him perform live yet, I know without a doubt that what Andrew possesses is a remarkable gift. Plus, listening to his music is the only way for me to relax these days. He is the cure to my stress-induced insomnia. _

He took back the notepad and when he looked at me, he flashed a bright, blinding smile, displaying his sparkling white teeth.

I was so enamored by his grin that I hadn't even realized he had responded to my mini rant.

I am glad his music is not completely useless, then.

With those final words, he stood up, gave me a small wave and exited the kitchen. At risk of sounding shallow, as I watched him leave, all I could think about was that those Levi's he wore looked amazing on him.

As I looked down at the half-empty box of Godiva chocolates sitting on the table in front of me, I realized that the joy I got from their creamy goodness was nothing compared to the thrill I received from conversing with the sweet and delectable Edward Cullen.

**A/N: I would really appreciate it if you left a review, because I am starting to feel a little sad about the lack of them. :( So, please, R&R!**


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